


A Gift from His Highness

by starduster



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Light BDSM, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-03-07 21:58:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3184658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starduster/pseuds/starduster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chrom gives Frederick one hell of a birthday gift.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Gift from His Highness

“Are you _absolutely sure_ you want this?”

Frederick is certain that this is the fortieth time Chrom has asked him this question.  Chrom stands anxiously at the foot of his bed, a coil of rope in one hand and a couple of silk scarves in the other.  He’s shifting from foot-to-foot, nerves running high, but his eyes remain focused sharply on Frederick.  Frederick sits comfortably on the edge of the bed, unstrapping his armor and piling the pieces neatly in a heap beside the bed.  He sighs, stopping his work and looking at Chrom with an expression of utmost seriousness.

“Milord, you needn’t do this if you’re not comfortable with it.  In fact, I do not wish to do this if you are uncomfortable.”

Chrom’s face reddens and his fists curl resolutely around the materials he’s gathered.  “N-no, it’s not that, I’m fine with it, I just…”  He cracks a dorky, lopsided smile.  “I can’t possibly fathom how this will be _enjoyable_ to you.” 

“It’s quite alright, Milord.  I enjoy serving you in the palace and on the battlefield; I’m certain I’ll enjoy serving you in the bedroom just as much.”

And Chrom looks like if any more blood rushes to his face he’ll pass out.

 

_“Your birthday is coming up, Frederick.  What do you want?”_

_“Only the pleasure of serving beneath you, Milord.”_

“Well then,” Chrom says, and his face looks red as a tomato, “I’ll do my best to boss you around, then.”  He lays the ropes and scarves down on the bed and starts working on the buckle of his shoulder guard, and they remain silent for a long moment as they work their way out of their armor.  Once he’s out of his light armor and boots, Chrom pauses.  Frederick is methodically stripping out of his own clothing, oblivious to the silence until Chrom clears his throat.

Frederick turns to Chrom, lets his shirt slip off his shoulders and onto the floor.  “What is it?”

Chrom is acutely aware of the way his breath catches in his throat at the sight of Frederick’s incredible bare torso, lined with muscle and criss-crossed with battle scars, but he shoves the thought to the back of his mind.  “I… I want to lay down some ground rules,” he stammers, fingers twisting nervously in his clothing before he realizes how anxious he must look and straightening up.  “So I don’t hurt you.  Well, more than you want me to.”

Frederick smiles.  “Of course.”

“First, if you tell me to stop, I have to stop.  It’s your call, I won’t push you.”  He gauges Frederick’s expression carefully as he speaks but sees nothing but openness and willingness.  “Second, we need a word or something that you’ll say if you want me to stop.  Something that’s not ‘stop’ and that you won’t cry out in the middle of the, uh, the act.”

Frederick hums thoughtfully, gaze traveling around the room searching for inspiration.  His eyes settle on Chrom’s sword, resting in its scabbard on top of one of the room’s ornately carved dressers.  “Falchion,” he murmurs, eyes returning to meet Chrom’s.  “I’ll use ‘Falchion.’”

Chrom nods resolutely.  “Alright.”  He swallows, nervousness creeping up his spine.  “Well then, shall we start?”

Frederick returns his nod confidently.  “I’m ready if you are.”

Chrom’s expression changes in an instant to something colder, something… stronger.  “Finish undressing.”  He turns on his heel and strolls to an ornate oak chair in the corner of the room, settling in and watching Frederick intently.

A shiver rolls down Frederick’s spine as he feels Chrom’s gaze map out his body.  _Just what I wanted,_ Frederick thinks as he gets to work on his belt buckle.  Off it comes, and it goes onto the neat pile of clothes at his feet.  Shimmying out of his pants, Frederick notices movement from Chrom out of the corner of his eye.  He’s tying a thick knot in one of the silk scarves.  _A gag._   Frederick’s breath catches in his throat. 

He’s starting to almost feel a bit anxious now, standing nearly bare in front of his lord, clad only in his smallclothes that need to come off next.  Steeling himself and trying to steady the minute tremble in his fingers – is it from anxiety or excitement? – he slips out of his smallclothes, stepping out of them and adding them to the pile. 

Frederick takes a deep breath and turns to face Chrom.  To his delight Chrom has the tiniest smile on his face, and his cheeks are turning just the slightest bit red.  Chrom’s eyes rove over his body and neither of them move for a long moment.  Then Chrom stands, slowly walking towards Frederick.  He’s looking at Frederick appraisingly, like he’s a piece of meat at the market, and Frederick’s face heats up as he feels arousal start to coil in his belly.  _A natural dominant, this one._

Cool leather touches his skin as Chrom’s fingers curl around his chin and lift gently, and their eyes meet.  “I’ve never realized how truly handsome you are, Frederick,” he murmurs, and a wicked little grin spreads across his face.  “You’ll look nice with my come on your face.”

_Oh, gods._

Frederick can feel every ounce of blood in his body rush in equal parts to his face and his cock, and Chrom’s blushing so hard he looks like he might pass out. 

And then he’s trembling, and then he bursts out into raucous laughter, and Frederick feels a little grin grace his own face.

“Oh _gods_ , that was bad,” Chrom wheezes between laughs, dropping his head onto Frederick’s shoulder and giggling into his collarbone.  “That was _terrible._ I’m so sorry.”

Frederick pats him reassuringly on the head.  “Yes, that was horrible, but it worked.”  Chrom straightens up and looks down, and flushes at the sight of Frederick’s arousal hanging hard and heavy between his legs.

“Oh,” he whispers, sounding almost reverent.  Tentatively he reaches out and runs his fingers slowly along Frederick’s length, apparently unaware of the way Frederick sucks in a breath and closes his eyes.  “I, um, don’t really know what I’m doing,” Chrom says conversationally, settling his hand on Frederick’s hip and massaging the skin gently.  “I read a book about this kind of thing, after you said you wanted this, but I’m just parroting what it said to do…” 

Humming thoughtfully, Frederick reaches out to start undoing Chrom’s shirt, nimble fingers popping open the buttons and slipping the fabric down Chrom’s shoulders.  The prince is pliant under Frederick’s hands, letting himself be undressed as he prattles on about how he’s not quite sure what he’s doing and how he’s not really sure how to tie Frederick up like he wants to and how rough he should be and…

Chrom’s voice trails off into silence when Frederick drops gracefully to his knees before him and undoes the ties on his trousers, then leans forward to press his lips reverently to the bulge in Chrom’s smallclothes.  “You’re doing fine, Milord,” he murmurs, rubbing his palm at the growing tent.  “You had me erect without so much as laying a hand on me.  You are practically a natural at this.”  A quick glance up at Chrom’s face reveals that he’s gazing down at Frederick’s ministrations with lust-clouded eyes, and he swallows heavily when Chrom’s fingers curl into his hair. 

“You think so?”  Chrom says with a husky tone, and it’s becoming apparent that he’s no longer quite so concerned about his shortcomings as a first-time dominant. He wets his lips and lets out a hiss of a breath when Frederick tugs his cock out of his smallclothes, and his hips twitch when Frederick’s long, calloused fingers wrap around his half-hard prick. 

“Mm-hm,” Frederick hums in affirmation, peering up at Chrom with half-lidded eyes as his hand tugs in slow strokes.  “You needn’t worry about hurting me, Milord.  I only wish to be of use to you.  You may do to me anything you wish, and rest assured that I will tell you if it’s too much.”

Chrom swallows and nods, fingers tightening in Frederick’s hair.  “Alright.  If that’s what you want, then blow me.”

 _The switch has been flipped_ , Frederick thinks as he breathes out a ‘yes, Milord,’ and presses his lips to the head of Chrom’s erection.  Breathing in the heady smell of arousal, he lets his tongue slip out and lave against the hard flesh, working him over slowly before letting the head into his mouth.  He sucks, long and slow, before sinking further and further down, letting his tongue and lips do the work.

Suddenly Chrom tugs his head forward, pushing himself into Frederick’s throat, only pulling back minutely when he feels Frederick gag.  “Now, now,” he chides, “no need to beat around the bush.”  Frederick’s hands curl against the backs of Chrom’s calves, fingers digging into the tough leather of his boots in surprise.  Taking a second to recompose himself, Frederick takes in a long breath through his nose, feeling coarse curls of hair brush his face where he’s swallowed Chrom down to the balls.  He swallows around the fullness in his mouth and throat, and is rewarded by a pleasured sigh from above.  As gingerly as he can Frederick shifts his head back and bit and then forward, adjusting to the stretch in his jaw and doing his best to work around it.  One of Frederick’s hands slips away from Chrom’s calf to move towards his own cock but before he can touch himself Chrom gives a sharp tug at his hair.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to touch yourself.”  He can hear the wicked grin in Chrom’s voice.  “Hands behind your back.”

 _He’s certainly getting into this,_ Frederick thinks gleefully.  Obediently he crosses his wrists behind his back, swallowing hard around the Prince’s cock and bobbing his head back and forth.  Chrom tentatively thrusts his hips and Frederick stops his movement, letting his lord take control. 

With both hands now knotted in dark brown locks, Chrom thrusts slowly into the wet suction of Frederick’s mouth, sighing contentedly.  Frederick shifts his legs uncomfortably, acutely aware of the wood-grain of the flooring digging into his knees now that he’s sitting back to let Chrom fuck his face.  As Chrom’s thrusts grow faster and harder Frederick forces down his gag reflex and swallows around the prince’s prick, eager to get him to come and bring some merciful relief to his aching jaw and throat.  He gets his wish when Chrom pulls roughly out of his mouth, hands still fisted in his hair, and comes with a groan.  Frederick shuts his eyes and lets his mouth hang ajar just a bit, feeling the hot splashes of fluid fall in ropes and strings across his face.  He breathes hard through his mouth, tongue slipping out to swipe some come from his lips.

He feels Chrom release his death grip on his hair, and when he opens his eyes and looks up, Chrom’s standing with his arms crossed, a proud smirk on his lips.

“I knew you’d look good with my come on your face.”  His smirk fades into something easier and kinder, and he bends down to press a firm kiss to Frederick’s lips.  _Our very first,_ Frederick thinks warmly as he relaxes against Chrom’s lips, letting his hands rest in his lap. “That was amazing,” Chrom murmurs when they part, and his fingers rub comfortingly at Frederick’s aching throat. 

“Thank you, Milord,” Frederick whispers hoarsely with a small smile.

“But don’t think I’m done with you quite yet,” Chrom whispers back wickedly, grabbing Frederick by the elbows and yanking him to his feet.  “Go lie on the bed.”

Frederick nods, a pang of excitement flooding through him.  “Yes, Milord.”  He makes his way on wobbly legs to the big, luxurious bed and slides onto it, resting on his back and letting his fingers curl anxiously against the skin of his stomach.  He longs desperately to touch himself but he doesn’t dare, though it’s tempting to disobey Chrom’s orders just to see what he’ll do.  Frederick shuts his eyes, feeling Chrom’s come dry on his face.  He probably shouldn’t wipe that off, either, and he must admit that he does like the feeling of being dirtied and claimed in such a manner. 

He hears Chrom shuffling around across the room, and opens his eyes to see Chrom closely inspecting the rope and scarves that he left on the chair.  “Are you alright to keep going, Frederick?” 

“Yes, I think so,” Frederick says, watching Chrom as he silently judges the rough coil of rope against the silky-soft scarves.  Either would be delightful, Frederick thinks with a pleased little sigh, and he closes his eyes again. 

“Good, good.  Then lie on your stomach.  Maybe put a pillow or something beneath your chest.”

Wordlessly Frederick rolls over, tugging down one of the big down pillows and positioning it beneath him so his breastbone rests against it comfortably.  _So Chrom intends to fuck like this, then_.

The dip of the mattress announces Chrom’s presence, and Frederick shifts in anticipation.  Chrom’s hand slides sensually down the curve of his back, fingers playing over the planes of muscle before coming to rest on the globes of his ass.  Chrom lifts himself and straddles Frederick’s back, sitting comfortably atop him as he reaches forward to stroke Frederick’s hair.  “Lift your head.”

He does as told, and a shiver runs down his spine when a knot of fabric is pressed to his lips.  _The gag_.  Chrom pushes it in when Frederick parts his lips then ties the ends of the scarf behind his head.  Chrom gives it a gentle tug, making sure it’s snug against Frederick’s skin.  “Can you breathe alright?”  Chrom questions as he scoots further down the length of Frederick’s body, and seems pleased when Frederick nods comfortably.  “Good.  Now, since you can’t talk, if you want me to stop, just shake your head three times, okay?”  Another nod, and Chrom gets to work on his next task. 

“Cross your wrists behind your back again,” Chrom orders, now sitting on Frederick’s thighs.  Another scarf is wrapped and tied around his wrists, binding them together behind his back.  They’re tight but not unpleasantly so, and Frederick shifts against his bounds in anticipation.  Unconsciously he ruts forward to rub his needy erection into the mattress, only to earn a sharp slap to the backside.

Chrom presses a kiss to Frederick’s spine before slipping off of him.  “Guess we’ll have to take care of that, too.”  He reaches over to the nightstand and snags a soft leather tie, part of an old shirt that had fallen apart long ago.  “Lift your ass,” he commands, helping Frederick into a sort of half-kneel, knees tucked beneath him with his upper body resting on the mattress. 

Frederick shudders at a sudden touch to his erection, moaning against the gag and pushing forward into Chrom’s hand when he grasps him and strokes slowly.  He strains against the awkward position, desperate for more stimulation until he feels the tie being wrapped around the base of his cock and tied neatly in a bow.  _The bastard._

“You seem so eager to come, but we can’t have that yet.”  Chrom slaps his ass again, and Frederick moans in pleasure.  “You don’t get to come until I let you, alright?”

Frederick nods frantically, mind reeling from the sudden stimulation so swiftly taken away.  The mattress shifts as Chrom moves behind him, and Frederick hears the sound of a glass jar being uncapped.   A warm hand spreads his asscheeks, and fingers flutter delicately against his hole.  A cold, lube-slicked finger prods against him, spreading the cool gel around his hole before pushing in slowly. 

Sighing into the knot of silk in his mouth, Frederick shuts his eyes and forces himself to relax his muscles and adjust to the intrusion.  It’s not his first time receiving, no, but it’s something he’s never gotten used to.  Chrom’s finger pumps in and out slowly, curling and twisting and stretching before another slips in beside it.  It doesn’t hurt, necessarily, but it’s not very pleasant, and Frederick’s brows knit together in concentration as he forces himself to even his breathing out and relax. 

“Not very good, is it?”  Chrom questions as his free hand strokes down the knight’s spine.  “Let’s see if we can fix that.”

Fingers curl and prod, searching out his prostate until they hit their target.  Frederick groans as Chrom finally hits that little spot, and Chrom, evidently pleased by the sound, rubs into it insistently.  He’s drooling against the gag, hips bucking desperately back against Chrom’s hand, and Frederick can’t help but cry out when fingers wrap around his erection and pump leisurely.  Chrom’s fingers inside him pump in and out, in and out, every thrust in jamming against his prostate and sending Frederick’s mind reeling.  As his pace speeds up, both inside him and on his prick, Frederick feels his orgasm start to mount, the hot coil of arousal in his belly tightening and his balls tensing.  It’s there, straining against the leather tie, and he groans against the gag in agonized frustration. 

The fingers twist and rub wickedly.  “Wanting to come?”

Frederick nods desperately, frantically.

“Are you sure?”

Frederick tries to plead and beg, voice lost against the gag as drool runs down his chin.  He strains at the binds on his wrist, fingers clenching and unclenching in desperation. 

“Alright, alright.” A swift tug at the tie and it’s off and Frederick’s coming hard, dirtying the blanket and setting off starbursts behind his eyelids and sending a shock through his muddled brain.  Tears of relief stream down his face, mingling with sweat and dried come, and Frederick rests his head against the mattress, breathing hard through his nose.  The gag shifts against his mouth as Chrom unties it and lets it fall out of Frederick’s mouth, and the knight sucks in a shaky breath. 

Chrom’s fingers slip out of him as the prince presses a kiss to Frederick’s back, the only thing he can reach as he sits up on his knees behind Frederick and taps his erection teasingly at the older man’s clenching pucker.  “I know you’re tired, but you’ve gotta keep going, okay?” 

Frederick nods slowly, feeling exhaustion course through his worn-out nerves.  The head of Chrom’s cock pushes in, spreading the tender flesh and rubbing the over-stimulated nerves, and Frederick groans at the uncomfortable sensation.  Chrom’s hands settle firmly on Frederick’s hips as he starts to thrust, slow and shallow at first, before picking up speed and ramming into him harder and harder.

There’s a dull ache creeping up Frederick’s spine as he rests against the pillow, marveling at the intensity of the sensations flooding his body and savoring the intimacy of Chrom inside him.  It’s all he’s ever wanted, and even if he only gets it this one time as a birthday gift, that’s good enough.  To be used and taken by the man he loves is wonderful in and of itself.

Chrom’s breathing his harsh behind him, and as his thrusts become faster and more erratic, Frederick knows he’s reaching his peak. A few final thrusts and then Chrom slams in and stays there, as bursts of wet heat fill Frederick to the brim.

When Chrom slowly withdraws, he strokes Frederick’s skin gently, now so different from before.  He helps him ease down onto his stomach, straightening his legs out before getting to work on the scarf around his wrists.  When his bindings are mercifully undone Chrom’s gentle hands help Frederick roll onto his back.

Through tear-rimmed eyes Frederick can see Chrom sitting next to him, smiling down at him fondly.  He must look a fucked-out mess right now, covered in sweat and come and tears and leaking come out his ass, but Frederick really couldn’t care less right now.  Like a child he reaches his arms out for Chrom and Chrom obliges him, laying down beside him and gathering him in his arms.  He kisses him, sweet and chaste, as he strokes his sweaty hair and holds him close.  It’s a side he’s never seen of Frederick, so intimate and needy, but given what he’s just done Chrom figures he needs this.

“That was incredible,” Chrom whispers softly, breath tickling Frederick’s skin.  “ _You_ were incredible.”

Frederick smiles tiredly.  “Thank you, Milord.”

“Chrom, Frederick.  Just call me Chrom, at least right now.”

“Chrom, then,” Frederick murmurs, fingers running up and down the sweat-slicked planes of Chrom’s back.  “Thank you, Chrom.”

“Was it good?  Was I too rough?”

“It was perfect.” 

“Good, good.  Next time maybe we could try tying you up a little more than just the hands.  Maybe your feet too, or something?” Chrom ponders as he wriggles out of Frederick’s embrace to sit up and reach over to fish a wet cloth out of the basin on the nightstand. 

 _Next time_ , Frederick thinks, smiling serenely as Chrom wipes him down, cleaning away the come and sweat and lube, dabbing between his legs and on his face.  He tosses the cloth away in the general direction of the wash basin and misses spectacularly, but it doesn't seem to faze him. 

Chrom tucks himself back against Frederick and pulls the covers up over them, snuggling against Frederick’s firm body and kissing him again.  “That was great,” Chrom says, gaze meeting Frederick’s across the scant few inches of space between them.  “Really, really incredible."

“It was,” Frederick agrees, leaning forward to steal a final smooch. “But are you sure it’s alright if I stay the night?”

“You’d better,” Chrom mutters, reaching back to turn off the oil lamp.  “I want you to.  As your master and the prince of Ylisse, I demand you sleep with me.”

Frederick’s smile widens, and he closes his eyes and rests his forehead against Chrom’s.

“Yes, Milord.”    

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have any excuses for this. I really don't. They're just such precious dorks and I love them both so much orz  
> But we all know Frederick is so totally gay for Chrom, and he seems like the kind of person who would get off on being dominated, especially by Chrom. Thus, this happened.  
> Also, this is the only thing I've ever written with BDSM in it. I tried to do it all correctly, but let me know if I messed anything up.


End file.
